


Crossing the Borderline

by ultraradiance (greisful)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Drama, F/M, Humor, One direction AU, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greisful/pseuds/ultraradiance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>During Sylvia's childhood and teenage years, her small neighbourhood in Cheshire had become her battlefield. Her opponent: Harry Styles. Their parents had been friends in their school days and so the natural assumption had been that the two children would also be friends. The fact of the matter was that Harry and Sylvia were constantly at each other's throats.</p>
  <p>It was fourteen years of pranks, rumour spreading, screaming, physical fights until Sylvia had finally turned eighteen and left the country to attend Notre Dame in France. For five years peace prevailed throughout the community until Sylvia's sister announced that she was getting married to Harry's best friend.</p>
  <p>And a sibling getting married could only mean one thing, Sylvia Coleman was back in town.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  banner by shilo @ 1DFF proboards

When I was very little, my friendships were mostly the result of my parents taking me with them whenever they went to visit friends and I was forced to play with the strangers kids as a way to entertain myself. My friendships didn't last very long, I'd play for a little while and then I'd get bored of the kid sitting in front of me and wander off on my own. And most of the kids were perfectly okay with that, they had their own thing going on and they didn't want me messing it up.

Except one kid.

When my parents had taken me to visit the Styles family, I was promptly introduced to their kid and left to play with him while the adults sat around and discussed who knew what. We'd stared at each other for a few minutes before little Harry held out his right hand, chocolate sitting on his palm as an offering. I'd grinned at him, taken the candy and then we ran off to play.

Eventually I got bored of him, same as any other kid. I'd assumed that he wouldn't really care, and if he did, he seemed like far too nice of a kid to actually do anything about my rudeness. So I was extremely surprised to find myself face down in a puddle of mud with little Harry throwing rocks at little me.

So I did the logical thing that any kid would've done, I got up, pushed him down and then shoved dirt in his face. We didn't get along much after that, and we didn't always see each other so for the first few years, our interactions were kept at a minimum.

In school we would occasionally get into fights during recess but we were too busy playing with friends to really harass each other. It was only when we got past Year Five that we really got into the fights. Worms in sandwiches, insects in beds, food fights in the gym during lunchtime, stealing homework, clothes, spreading rumours, literally anything that a little kid could do, we did it.

Our neighborhood was absolutely terrified of the two of us. At one point we almost got hit by a car, an incident that I blamed on Harry before punching him the fuck out. I think everyone let out a sigh of relief when they heard that I was leaving for France to study at the University of Notre Dame.

My day of departure came by a lot quicker than I had anticipated and before I knew it, I was going downstairs to have breakfast and to be told by Harry to rot in hell while his best friend chatted up my sister. I told him to choke on his own spit and went on my way. My parents drove me to the airport and saw me off and that was that.

I didn't see my family much from that moment on. We had the occasional Skype calls but they were always spent with me gathering research for a paper or actually writing the stupid thing. Any news that was given to me about the goings on of various family members was promptly forgotten two minutes later as something more important occupied the space in my brain.

My sister kept me up to date on her career, but whenever I mentioned her love life, she became very distant and tight-lipped about it. The most I got out of her was that she had been on a few dates. It came as a huge shock to me when I was told that my sister was actually getting married. Maybe I wouldn't have spat water at my laptop screen in shock if she had actually bothered to tell me that she was even dating anyone.

The horrifying thing wasn't the fact that my sister was getting married, it was who she was getting married to that made my blood run cold. While I was gone, Harry's friend had shacked up with my sister, and a year later, they were announcing their engagement and my Maid of Honour status.

And wherever Harry's friend went, Harry was sure to follow, and he was definitely not going to miss his best mate's wedding.


	2. 1

Packing was an absolute nightmare for me, it really was. I could make all of the lists that I wanted and check them as many times as my heart desired, but there would always be that nagging feeling that I was forgetting something important. My skype call with my mum had basically been me running around my room looking for missing clothes, or coming to the verge of tears when I thought about my favourite sweater being lost. My mum had just sat in front of her camera with her tea and knitted the entire time.

I had combed my room twice, I had checked each and every single corner that I could've thought off, looked through every drawer twice and pretty much turned the entire place upside down.

Everything was officially packed.

Until I landed in England and remembered what I had forgotten to pack and then freaked out about it.

My time in Paris had changed me in many ways, my worrying was not one of those things.

The city had been my home for so long that the idea of leaving it was just absurd to me. The place had become my home. I had my friends here, I had exboyfriends here, my entire life was here now. My aunt and uncle were like a second set of parents and I would be forever grateful for letting me stay with them for so long.

The sad part was that I would miss the city more than I missed my parents after being away from them for so many years. It was horrible to say, I know, but when you've got a family as big as mine, a little isolation was needed.

My aunt and uncle drove me to the airport and let me go with two kisses on each cheek, and a stern reminder to feed myself until I landed in England. They had nothing to worry about however, it was, after all, an hour long flight.

I knew where to check in and get my boarding pass, I knew where my gate was and dutifully made my way over to it, stopping to get some coffee while I was on my way. I had three hours to kill before I had to leave for England. My carry on was basically a bag shoved full of books that I would carry around the entire time.

But you can only sit reading for so long before you start to get bored and try to find other ways to occupy yourself. Playing games on my phone only succeeded in enraging me whenever I lost, and people watching just made you look creepy.

So reading it was.

Eventually, my flight was called, and slowly passengers began to load. I gathered up my things and took my place in line and waited for the woman at the front to check my ticket.

I got lucky with my seat, it was an aisle one, which meant that I had easy access to the bathroom, and somewhere to put my legs if I wanted to stretch them out. That was the downside of being incredibly tall, my legs had nowhere to go on flights.

That and it was impossible for me to fall asleep because I couldn't get comfortable.

The most exciting part of the flight was the takeoff and landing, at least in my opinion. That burst of excitement as the plane sped up on the runway, being pushed back into your seat as the plane tilted upwards and lost contact with the ground. It just gave a real sense of adventure to the whole flight.

The not so exciting part? Your ears popping because the pressure changed. Luckily for me, I had my earbuds in so that was one thing that I avoided.

The snack on the flight was simply an assortment of crackers, which weren't all that bad to be honest. And most importantly, the person sitting on my right wasn't a giant asshole. No screaming children, no obnoxiously loud music, and no disturbing magazines, so all in all, I couldn't complain.

Although I will admit that I locked myself in the bathroom a couple of times just so that I had something to do.

And then finally, the plane began to descend and my earplugs were going in my ears again. I caught a glimpse of the city below me from the window, growing closer and closer as the minutes went by and couldn't help but smile at the fact that in just a few minutes, the plane would be landing and I would finally get to see my family after so long.

Except it wasn't my family that was waiting to pick me up from the airport and welcome me home. Oh no, instead, when I finally came out of the departure area, my old school enemy was waiting for me.

Harry hadn't changed much throughout the years, if I was being honest. Sure, his hair was a lot longer and messier (and to be honest, kind of gross) but he still had the same style. He still had his skinny pants and his boots that made his feet look absurdly large when compared to the rest of his body, and he still had his short-sleeved shirt.

The tattoos were new though. Last time I'd seen him, Harry had been clean, but now both arms were practically covered in tattoos. And I hated to admit it, but they kind of looked cool. I never thought I would ever see the day when I called Harry Styles cool.

"What are you doing here?" I asked with a scowl when I stopped in front of him.

"I stopped by to mock you once you got off the plane and then leave with your luggage," he replied drily, hands clasped behind his back like a general.

"Haven't lost your sense of humour I see," I replied sarcastically and moved past him so that I could find suitcases.

"Still as frosty as ever Coleman," Harry replied from behind me. He knew how to make his way into a girls heart, didn't he?

"You bring out the best in me," I replied. And then it was twenty minutes of awkward silence as we waited for my baggage to make it's way over to me on the carousel. I managed to grab my things before it went past me after waiting for five minutes for my luggage to come by. I'm ashamed to admit that I struggled a bit with it, but I sure as hell wasn't going to accept the help of Harry Styles, I wasn't that weak.

He led me to what I assumed was his car in silence. The only friendly gesture that he made was opening the trunk for me to put my suitcase in and then getting into the drivers seat. I shoved the suitcase in and then hurried over to the passengers side before Harry could drive off without me and leave me with a cab to catch.

I wouldn't have put it past him to be perfectly honest, his younger self would've most definitely done it, his older self however seemed to be less childish. But I mean, this was Harry, how much had he really changed?

The drive was quiet but that seemed to be the default with Harry and I. It was better than throwing insults back and forth to each other the entire time, I wasn't in the mood to tell him his special place in hell. But maybe I was getting ahead of myself, Harry could've changed into someone that was kind and mature.

Ha. Right.

I looked out of the window the entire time. Everything looked so familiar, but at the same time, it was all so foreign to me. I hadn't been home in so long, it didn't feel like the streets and the stores that we drove by belonged to me anymore. I didn't feel at home when I was at home.

It was almost noon in England, the sun was shining brightly, which could be a little rare in England. I guess nature was making up for the fact that I was riding with someone I wasn't particularly fond of. Finally, Harry parked the car in front of my childhood home and turned off the engine.

I clambered out of the car and stretched my back before moving to the trunk to take out my suitcase. To my surprise, Harry had already done that for me. My suitcase sat by one side, and my carry on bag was slung over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I asked stupidly. I might've needed to get myself some glasses because I seemed to have lost my vision.

"Your mum is watching," Harry replied simply, nodding behind me. I turned around and sure enough, there was my mother, pulling back the curtains of the living room and peering outside. Ah yes, mums classic stalking technique, it's what she did whenever relatives were coming over.

"And you want to make a good impression, why?" I asked perplexedly.

"In case you're unaware, but I'm also a part of the wedding process, and I figured it would be in everyone's best interest if I got along with your family," Harry said with a grunt, he swung my bag on his back and closed the trunk.

"Why wouldn't you get along with my family?" It wasn't as if it was the two of us that were getting married here.

"Were you not present for the first eighteen years of your life or have you experienced a recent head injury?" Harry asked as he led the way up to the front door. Alright, I'll admit that he had a point there, the amount of times that my family and his had been called to the principals office for another fight that we had gotten into was countless.

The stories my parents heard about Harry from me had not exactly warmed them to him, and I had a feeling his family had heard equally unflattering stories of me.

The front door flew open and my gorgeous sister came bounding out, her face lit up with a wide smile, her arms spread wide open in a hug. She, literally, pushed Harry out of her way without a glance and flung herself around my neck. My face was buried in her dark, shiny hair as she just about strangled me to death.

"Oh my goodness Sylvia, it's been so long since you've been here! I missed you so much!" Adrola said. She looped her left arm through mine and dragged me to the front door where my mother was waiting with a smile of her own. Harry, on the other hand, was struggling to keep upright with my baggage in his arms.

Mum looked different yet the same since the last time I saw her. Maybe I had never noticed it on camera before because I wasn't paying attention, but her hair had a lot more grays in it than when I left, her face was more lined, and I think she even got shorter. But the feeling that I got when I looked at her was still the same, she still felt like, well, mum.

"Harry, dear, it's good to see you've moved on from setting my daughters hair on fire," mum said, and just like that, her warmth disappeared and was replaced by a cool smile. I immediately cringed when the words left out of her mouth. I really wish I hadn't told her about that incident, but it's not like I had a choice. How would I have explained to my mother why half of my hair was missing?

"What?" Harry asked, his head snapping back in my direction, eyes wide.

"Why don't take off your shoes inside Harry and let everyone in," I said in a loud voice and pushed him over the threshold before enveloping my mum in a hug. Her arms wrapped tightly around me and she patted me on the back. She still smelled like that old perfume of hers that she loved.

"Why don't you get settled in and then come down for lunch?" she said, holding me at arms length and looking me up and down. I gave her a kiss on each cheek before slipping off my shoes and sliding them out of the way. I followed Harry up the stairs to my old bedroom, my things still dragging him down.

The walls upstairs were crowded with even more pictures than I remembered, but they were all of my sister and her brand new fiancé. My little sister, who was getting married. This was so weird.

"You told your mum about the time I set your hair on fire!" Harry hissed at me once he'd dumped my stuff on the floor of my old childhood bedroom. It even had the bed with the Barbie sheets on it.

"Well it wasn't as if I had much choice, I was missing several inches of hair," I retorted.

"You didn't have to tell on me!"

"Oh, like you didn't tell your parents about the time I stole your clothes during gym class," I snapped back and stepped around him. I had expected a smart reply from Harry, but instead, all he did was sigh in frustration and then stomp out of the room.

I hadn't realised how tensed I had been the entire time that I was around Harry until I actually relaxed. Nothing in my room had changed in all of the time had been gone. I guess it had always been assumed that I would move back home once I got my degree. My closet was empty and just waiting for me to put my clothes into it. My white curtains had been pulled back and the window had been opened to air the room out.

Someone had done the cleaning in here because there was not one particle of dust in the air or on any furniture as far as I could see. The headboard of my bed was still filled the little things that I'd loved when I was younger, mostly snow globes. I dumped my book bag on my bed and turned it over, spilling all of my books on the mattress before dropping the bag by the side of the bed.

I rolled my suitcase over to my closet, laid it down and zipped it open. I slowly began taking out the clothes and putting it on the empty hangars that were waiting for me.

My mom would probably take them off in order to wash them so I didn't even know why I was bothering with such a little task.

I was almost finished unpacking when mum called me down for lunch and then I had to abandon my shoes to head downstairs.

Mum had pulled out all of the stops for lunch. I had thought that it would only be family but that was not the case. Our dining table had been extended so that now it almost blocked the entrance to the kitchen. It wasn't only my family that was having lunch, Harry's best friend had shown up as well, and taken his place next to my sister. Harry was there, and so was the family of his best mate.

There were eleven people crowding around my dining table.

I had no idea how long mum and dad had taken to cook  all of the food that was being passed around to everyone around the table, but they must've had to get up really early. The two of them were superheroes, I swear to God, I didn't know how anyone could do what they did.

I was the last person to take their seat at the table, directly across from my sister, who was smiling at her fiancé with the most sickeningly happy smile on her face. Lord, if she was like this all the time around him, I didn't know how I would get through this whole planning thing. Harry seemed to share my sentiments however because he too had a grimace on his face.

"Have they been like this the entire time?" I asked quietly, leaning over so that he could hear me.

"You mean, do they always make eyes at each other and act like the sun shines out of their arse, then yes," Harry replied.

"Looks like I'm going to have to be extra bitter to keep things balanced around here," I said with a remorseful sigh. Harry snorted from his spot next to me and picked up his fork.

"I don't think you'll have to try very hard in that department," Harry said, and here I thought that the two of us were getting along for once. I scowled at him and reached for the potatoes.

"Now, now, no fighting on the first day of Sylvia being back. You think you two could play nice around each other?" my sister said. I never thought that the day would arrive when my own sister, my flesh and blood, would patronize me. Whatever happened to taking my side and agreeing that Harry was an asshole and to be blamed for everything? She had to choose now of all times to drag herself away from her fiance's eyes.

"Hey, I can play nice if I have to, I'm not the immature one," I shot back and forked a potato and shoved it into my mouth.

"Good, then since you're so mature, you'll have no problem walking with Harry down the aisle," Harry's friend said. This man had followed Harry around throughout our entire childhood and I still didn't remember his name. Had I ever learned it in the first place?

"Zayn," Harry coughed into his hand. I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. What on earth was he going on about? And then he pointedly looked at the man beside my sister and that's when it hit me. Maybe my deer in the headlights look hadn't gone unnoticed.

"So Adrola, tell me, when did you and Zayn start dating and why did I only find out about this two months ago?" I asked as politely as I could. But as polite as I was trying to be, I couldn't keep the edge out of my voice. My sister had been my best friend when I was younger, she was the only one that didn't get tired of hearing about how much of an arse Harry was. Adrola was the one who always backed me up whenever I ranted about someone no matter how wrong it was.

I'd always thought that we could tell each other anything, but apparently not. Being told that my sister was getting married totally blindsided me, I hadn't even known that she was in a relationship for crying out loud!

But the worst part wasn't the fact that I was the last person to hear about the engagement, no, the worst part was that Harry freaking Styles, knew what was going on before I did. And he had known for years as well. When had Harry Styles ranked higher than me, like, ever?

"It all started a few months after you left for France to be honest, I didn't really have anyone to talk to the way that I could talk to you, and Zayn and I had always been good friends. And then we just became more than friends and things kept going from there," Adrola replied with a dreamy smile. Alright, I could buy that, I mean, it sounded like a shit excuse but I could buy the story.

"That doesn't answer the second part of my question, why didn't you tell me?" I asked. Harry handed me a bowl full of peas and I took it out of his hands without even glancing at him. I admit that I took some of my frustration out on the peas, they kind of rocked my plate back and forth with the force that I had slopped them on. Harry tugged the peas away from me before I started flinging the food across the table and placed it out of my reach.

"I guess, we just kind of forgot," and now she didn't look so dazed anymore, but more ashamed and embarrassed. As she should have been, I mean, who forgets to tell their sibling that they're getting married?! That's like forgetting to tell your husband that you're pregnant until the moment that you go into labor!

Although, to be honest, if the husband didn't figure out why you got progressively bigger through the course of nine months, they're probably an idiot and you should divorce them.

"Right, so during all of that time when our numerous relatives were informed on you, you somehow forgot to tell me that you were getting serious with someone," I responded drily. There was no reply to that, and honestly, if I had gotten one, I probably would've dived right into a long winded rage which would've soured our lunch.

Not that I wasn't already doing a great job of it without the raging already.

A quick look around the table showed the rest of Zayn's family glancing uneasily at each other while Zayn himself stared into his lap. My parents had tired looks on their faces, as if they had resigned themselves to their daughters antics. Harry was the only one who didn't seemed fazed with my behaviour and just kept on eating.

I just had to pick the worst time to instigate an argument with my sister. I couldn't have just let this go for at least a couple of days, no, I had to bring up problems the minute that I stepped foot in the house.

"Sylvia," my mum started, and right then I knew that if I kept pushing the subject then this lunch was going to turn into a complete circus and I would most likely not only embarrass myself, but also the rest of my family. Although, if my sister had agreed to getting married to Zayn, I was pretty sure his family had witnessed mine acting more than a little bit ridiculous many times.

"You know what, this isn't the time for this discussion, I'm sorry for making everyone uncomfortable. Let's just enjoy our lunch, pass the chicken, will you?" I said, and held out my hand expectantly at Harry. It was silent for far too long, I don't think I've ever seen my parents, my sister, and Harry so dumbstruck before in my life.

"Chicken, please, _now_ ," I said and snapped my fingers for good measure. This seemed to snap Harry out of his shock and back into reality. I guess I could see why everyone was so shocked. I wasn't exactly known for being calm and collected when I was younger, I was more like a bomb ready to go off at any moment. Although to be honest, I was only like that around Harry, I was pretty non-explosive around just about everyone else.

Well, except for a few cousins, but they were assholes so it was to be expected. But hey, I could be mature.

And I mean, I was in my twenties now, I couldn't just keep acting like a petulant child every time I didn't get my way, or every time I was upset by something. Sure, I wasn't happy that my sister had kept her relationship from me for so long, or that she was getting married at such a young age, but it was what it was and making a big fuss over it now wouldn't help anyone.

Don't get me wrong, I would demand an explanation later, but for now, I was going to let the subject drop.

**Author's Note:**

> i was trying to figure out what fanfiction i wanted to post on here from the one direction ones i'm working on and i picked the least cringey ones. some of them were just the re-written non-Harry Potter versions so I left those, and then one of them i wrote when i was like 12 so i didn't want to subject anyone to that torture, and the sequel to that is pretty decently written, but i don't know if you could read it as a standalone.


End file.
